


let's get carried away

by morallyambiguous



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Knotting, M/M, Mates, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mildly Dubious Consent, Omega Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-07
Updated: 2014-10-07
Packaged: 2018-02-20 06:07:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2417810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morallyambiguous/pseuds/morallyambiguous
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Off his suppressants, Stiles's heat hits him at the most in-opportune moment.  Derek doesn't find it inopportune.</p>
            </blockquote>





	let's get carried away

**Author's Note:**

  * For [halfhardtorock](https://archiveofourown.org/users/halfhardtorock/gifts).



There's something savage about Derek Hale, Stiles thinks, watching the man go about his business. Not that he was creeping on Derek, or anything (which is a flat out lie, but whatever). It is just in the way he moves. Everything about his movements screams Alpha. Stiles is lucky if anyone picks up on the fact that he's an omega on a good day. He is though, and he has omega needs. Like Derek. But he's been on suppressants long enough that he can ignore the way that he wants to bare his neck every time Derek gets closer. That he wants to show Derek that despite what he might believe, Stiles can be obedient. He wants to lift his hips up and let Derek take-

Derek fumbles with the knife.

"Everything okay over there?" Stiles asks, flushing slightly, train of thought interrupted. Almost certain that Derek knew what he was thinking about.

"I'm fine. It would help if you actually did something useful for once." Derek snipes.

"It's your house, you’re cooking for your pack; I'm just here because I have another week until the doctor “Okays” me for lacrosse." Stiles says, embarrassed. He would really love it if he could go back to taking his suppressants, because this shit is embarrassing. He might be an omega but that doesn't mean that he wants to act like one, he has more self-respect than letting himself turn into a stereotype. He shifts in his seat, feeling the beginnings of wetness in his underwear.

"Yes, Stiles, everyone and their mother already knows that. But your arm still works, and I would appreciate it if you would finish chopping these vegetables. I have to wash my hands." Derek says. There's a firmness to his voice that makes Stiles want to listen to it, want to lean into it. Despite every objection from his common sense, he does.

"Sure." He says, walking close to Derek, hips just brushing. He shudders, a chill rippling across his skin. He hears Derek growl lowly.

"Stiles!"

"Yeah, yeah."

Derek rolls his eyes.

Then Stiles decides to run his big mouth. Because if there's a wrong time to run his mouth, he always has to find it. "Look at the big bad Alpha: providing for his pack, keeping them safe in his den. The only thing you're missing now is a mate." He teases. If only because he's jealous and he wants all of that, everything Derek has to offer (which admittedly is not that much, but Derek’s grown on him).

Derek's eyes glow red, and Stiles knows that he's fucked up. He knows that he's hit a sore spot, because even though Scott is The Alpha, Derek is still an Alpha and he still has those instincts. A hand wraps around his waist. He's pulled flush against Derek. He lowers his nose to Stiles’ neck. And Stiles lets him, bares his neck to him, and lets Derek scent him.

Derek looks up at him, and smirks. "Why? Are you offering, Stiles?" He nips Stiles’ neck, and Stiles can't even control the jerk of his hips.

Stiles blushes, pushing himself flush against Derek, hands bunching up his shirt, trying to keep him there. "I-"

And then Scott walks in and Derek is across the kitchen chopping vegetables.

Stiles can't even control it, he hits Scott on the arm. "Worst best friend ever." Before shuffling out of the room, because that's all his boner will really allow him to do.

In the kitchen he can hear Scott saying, "What? What did I do?"

He collects himself in the bathroom, trying to get his libido and his instincts under control, because all he can remember is Derek asking him if he was offering to be mate. He splashes some cold water on his face and rests his face against the cold porcelain of the sink.

Someone bangs on the door. "Hurry up Stilinski! You better not be jerking off in there, we have a meeting to start!"

Godammit Erica.

He dries off his face and tries to ignore the way his body angles towards Derek's. Because he wants. Dear God does he want.

He fidgets the entire meeting, feeling hot and anxious and like he wants to just drop to his knees in front of the entire pack and put his mouth all over Derek's dick, let him knot his mouth until he's choking. Scott looks at him, and across the room Derek's eyes flash red, a sub-vocal growl the undertone of the entire meeting.

Stiles wants so badly to submit to him, bare his little pink hole to be knotted by Derek- and fuck he’s wet, almost leaking, all over Derek’s couch this is embarrassing.

When the meeting is over, and it ends quickly after Stiles realizes he’s leaking, the pack averting their eyes from his in order to give him some semblance of privacy.

The others leave, and it's Derek and Stiles again. Derek shuffles through the den, picking up discarded plates and cups, muttering about messy teenagers and Stiles squirms in his seat, suddenly distracted from thoughts of Derek's knot with thoughts of Derek and kids. Derek and Stiles' kids. Stiles round and bred full like a good omega. Derek throwing him over the couch and breeding him so full-

"Do you mind?" Derek asks. He's standing in front of Stiles, legs spread wide, thighs strong enough that all Stiles can think about is those thighs pushing a knot into him so deep it hurts. "Stiles, are you-?"

Derek leans over to sniff him, filling up Stiles' senses with the woodsy, male scent of him. His eyes roll back in his head and he moans. But Derek just rolls his eyes, searching for more than the smell of arousal that constantly follows Stiles around, and he stops, chest puffing up and eyes glowing red as his fangs descend. "You're in heat." He says, and just by acknowledging it, Stiles realizes that he is, he’s been on suppressants so long that he didn’t even recognize the onset of one.

Why had he ever gone on them? This was great, and he had a strong alpha like Derek to breed him.

He throws his head back, presenting his neck for the older male to take. "Please, Derek." He moans. Feeling the beginnings of his wetness seep out into his underwear.

"Fuck." Derek says, biting down with sharp teeth against Stiles' pulse. Stiles tries to jerk, but Derek is holding him down, wrists grasped sharply behind his back as Derek attacks his neck. But he wants—needs more.

"Derek." He whines. He feels so empty.

"Stiles, I need to prepare you, get you ready. Ready to take my knot."

Stiles' nails dig into Derek's shirt hard enough that they draw blood. He looks at Derek with a fire in his eyes, "I don't need you to treat me with kid gloves, Derek. I need you to stop being a bitch for one day in your life and commit to something. Fucking knot me, you asshole.”

And then, God, he's face down on the couch, hips up and pants pulled down, slick sliding down his balls, and he can hear the rustle of Derek’s pants. He thrusts his hips back, presenting for his alpha. Derek forces his neck down, holding it, forcing his submission.

"There’s only one bitch here, and if you know what’s good for you, you’ll be a good one. You fucking brat.” Derek says, lispy through his heavy fangs, eyes bright red like blood. "You asked for this." Derek moans, pulling himself out of his briefs. "God, you smell so good, I was going to go slow, going to feed my knot to you nice and slow until you were crying for me, begging me."

Stiles whined high in his throat, pushing his hips back against Derek's thighs. Derek's grip on his neck turns punishing. "But you're such an easy little slut for it, that I'm going to blow my knot in your tight ass, and you're going to take it."

"Derek, please, Derek, pleasepleasepleaseplease-" And Derek fucks in in one smooth stroke, fucks in deep, deep, aided by the omega slick, and Stiles' eyes roll back. "Fuck, Derek!"

Derek has to stop for a moment, because Stiles is hot and wet like a vice, smelling like a new omega ready to be bred, even though this isn't—can’t be—his first. Stiles moves his hips in little circles, like he can't wait, that he needs it so bad that he'll fuck himself on Derek's dick until he finally gets the knot that he needs.

He pulls out, tip just hovering outside of that heat slick hole, and Stiles is crying, whining with high little breathy noises. Derek soothes him with harsh strokes against he back of his neck, praising him for submitting so good, so good. "Shhh, shh, good bitch, I'm gonna take good care of you. You’re doing so well."

“Damn it, Derek, _please!_ ”

Derek fucks back into that heat, some deep instinctual part of him angling his hips until he can get so fucking deep it feels like he's part of the kid. He angles his hips and listens to the way that Stiles's breath hitches as he hits his prostate, until he's hitting the kid's prostate on every stroke, and Stiles is crying, little hitching breaths, like it's too much to take and he can't, he can't, he can't Derek-

"You can, and you will." Derek growls, fucking harder against Stiles' prostate until the kid's back tightens up and Derek can smell his orgasm like lighting on the horizon and then he remembers what the little brat called him.

He pulls out, "Who is your alpha?"

Stiles yells, angry and heat-muddled, "No, please, come back."

"Who is your alpha?"

"You, you asshole, now please, give me your knot, I need it." And he's crying, and it's the most beautiful thing Derek's ever seen, his mate begging for his knot. He fucks back in, except this time, he doesn't hold anything back, rutting into the kid with deep, dirty rolls of his hips, moving the couch with each thrust. He bites down on Stiles's neck and growls in alpha satisfaction as Stiles screams and comes, getting it everywhere, and clenching down on Derek's dick.

And Derek knots the kid tight and full, filling him so full of his come that there's no way he won't come out of this heat with his belly swollen with Derek's pups.

Stiles moans, heat sated for the moment. But Derek rolls his hips, enjoying the feeling of hot and wet and tight around his knot. "You know, I hate how you always smell like your hand is connected to your dick." He mutters into Stiles' ear. "But you've never had a heat, in all the time I've known you, horny little omega slut that you are." Stiles hiccups a soft little moan as the knot rubs at his prostate, and feels the heat swelling up at the base of his spine again. "And now I know why, because you would've given it up to the first Alpha you saw, would've let any knot fill you up, that's how badly you need it." Derek mutters, face curved into Stiles' neck, savoring the smell of DerekandStiles,and StilesandDerek, and the spicy-sweet scent of ripe omega.

"No." Stiles moans, still a little out of it with his heat, crying with little hiccup breaths, so full, "Just you, since sophomore year. You've been my Alpha. Only your knot. And it feels so good, Derek, such a good Alpha.”

Derek sits them back on the couch, letting Stiles lean back against his chest, so he can be more comfortable, licking at the mating bite with little kitten licks and ignoring the way that Stiles twitches and whines on his knot.

He looks forward to the rest of his heat, both of their first with mates, his knot pulses at that thought and Stiles lets out a weak little moan. Derek did so good with this one.


End file.
